


Snap

by Optimizche



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 16:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15562008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Optimizche/pseuds/Optimizche
Summary: The aftermath of Thanos' snap affects a certain Captain





	1. Chapter 1

Thanos had managed to do the impossible. The intergalactic warlord had managed to collect all the infinity stones for his gauntlet and with a snap of his fingers, decimated half the population of the planet.

 

The world, your world, had turned to ashes around you. _Literally._

 

Wanda, Sam, T'challa, Bucky. The indiscriminate culling had turned them to dust before your very eyes in Wakanda. They had disintegrated into nothingness.

 

Half the Avengers were gone. _Just like that._

 

The ones who did survive, were all in shock. Shock and mourning and anger and confusion. And guilt. God, there was so much guilt.

 

The team, what remained of it, gathered into the nearest available quinjet and departed from Wakanda for New York.

 

Thor, Bruce, Natasha, Rhodes, Steve. And you. The trip back to New York was passed in hours of deafening silence.

 

When we arrived at the Avengers Tower, we came to know that Nick and Maria were also no more. _Another_ blow.

 

There were no tears, surprisingly. Just silence and anger. And the ever present guilt.

 

In silence, we assembled in the common room. The very same room where we had once celebrated our taking of Baron Von Strucker's Sokovian facility by drinking and taking turns at lifting Thor's hammer.

 

"What do we do now?" Natasha asked, finally breaking the ringing silence that had accompanied us from the battle in Wakanda.

 

All of us looked at her as she pushed a lock of her blonde hair away from her face. Her eyes conveyed a sense of agitation and helplessness, emotions that we all felt.

 

Thor gave a bitter laugh. "What _can_ we do?" he spoke ruefully. "He won."

 

At hearing those last two words out of Thor's mouth a dangerous rage flashed in Steve's eyes. In a moment, he had gone from looking pained to looking angry.

 

"No," he said, through gritted teeth. "He cannot win. There has to be a way."

 

"How can there be a way, Steve?" Thor asked. "If my newly forged Stormbreaker from Nidevellir couldn't kill him, what other way is there?"

 

Steve slammed his hand on the table, making you jump in your seat. There was a wild anger in his eyes.

 

You looked at him closely. His rugged, bearded face, the wild anger in his eyes. The way he had torn off the star from his tactical suit. 

 

"He destroyed half the population of the _planet,"_ he spoke in an agitated tone. "Our team... T'Challa, Wanda, Sam... _Bucky..."_

 

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. Half your team was gone. Bucky... Steve's best friend since childhood, he had lost him again.

 

You could feel his pain. Steve had lost Bucky after finding him again. After everything they had been through in their lives....

 

You reached out to touch Steve's arm. "Its alright, Steve," you tried to pacify him. "We need to think calmly... There will be a way out-"

 

He glared at you, his eyes filled with a venomous rage as he pushed your hand away roughly. "It is most certainly _not alright,_ Y/N. And if you expect me to 'act calmly' in this situation, you've most certainly lost your mind," he spoke, his voice harsh, every word stabbing you in the heart.

 

Steve had never behaved this way with you. _Ever._

 

You stared at him. "You're not the only one who has lost a friend, Steve," you spoke quietly.

 

He stared at you coldly. "But it seems like I am the only one who cares about it here."

 

With that, he stood up from his chair and left.

 

You watched him leave, a painful lump rising in your throat. The Avengers were your family too. You had lost half of your family. How could Steve think that you didn't care?

 

Blinking back tears, you stood up.

 

"Don't worry about him, Y/N," Natasha said to you in a calm, almost motherly voice. "Right now, he is blaming himself because he is the-"

 

"I know, Nat," you cut her off. "He's the leader. The _Captain._ But that doesn't give him the right to behave the way he is behaving. He should be the one keeping a cool head at the moment. We've _all_ lost someone in this war." 

 

She patted you on the shoulder. "He will come around, don't worry."

 

You blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears down as you walked away from the common room.

 

Once you were safely within the confines of your own living quarters, you finally let the tears flow.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

You were a telepath.

 

Your powers were four times stronger than those of Wanda. In fact, it had been _you_ who had trained her to hone her powers when she had first joined the Avengers after the Ultron fiasco in Sokovia.

 

Wanda, the lost orphan girl who you had taken under your wing, you had watched her turn to dust in Wakanda.

 

Sam and you had an easy, effortless friendship. You used to playfully mock his utter fascination with Captain America. "You're such a Cap fangirl, Sammy," you'd say to him during training sessions, earning a nudge from him. You had lost him too.

 

So when Steve declared that it seemed like you didn't care about losing your friends after what Thanos did, he was wrong.

 

You cared.

 

You cared _deeply._

 

* * *

 

  
It had been three days since the team had arrived from Wakanda. Since the argument you had had with Steve, you had refrained from leaving your own living quarters, refusing to talk to anyone.

 

You needed time alone. You needed to mourn. You _all_ did.

 

Thankfully, the other team members understood and granted you your space and privacy. Nat checked on you through texts, asking if you had eaten, if you had slept. You had done neither over the past three days, but you lied to her. You didn't want her to worry unnecessarily.

 

The decimation of half the population of the world was a _much_ bigger concern than your diet and sleep.

 

It was early evening and you had finally managed to get up from your bed, where you had spent the majority of the last three days. You had dragged yourself into the bathroom and forced yourself to take a shower.

 

You had scrubbed every inch of yourself clean, almost as if you were trying to wash away the nightmare that you were living.

 

Your heart felt weighed down with grief and loss. And your limbs felt heavy, like lead. Every movement felt like it was an effort in itself. The pain was becoming too much to bear.

 

"Miss Y/N," FRIDAY's voice broke you out of your reverie as you sat on the couch in your living room, lost in your thoughts. "Captain Rogers requests entry to your quarters."

 

"Took him long enough..." you muttered bitterly under your breath. You didn't want to see him, in all honesty.

 

But despite everything that you all had been through, you felt a certain degree of attachment and fondness for Steve. You didn't know what it was. It was an emotion you couldn't identify yet.

 

"Let him in, FRIDAY," you said to the AI.

 

Part of you was curious about the reason behind this sudden visit. Perhaps there were new leads about Thanos? Perhaps he wanted to apologize?

 

You heard his footsteps approaching and looked up.

 

You felt your heart wrench when you saw him.

 

His hair was disheveled, his beard unkempt. He was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. There were prominent dark circles under his eyes, giving him a gaunt appearance.

 

His eyes met yours and you almost gasped. You could read his thoughts. You could see the defeat in his eyes. The intensity of his pain, his grief, it sent a shockwave of _actual,_ physical pain through you.

 

Steve Rogers, Captain America, the man with the plan.... he looked **_broken._**

 

 _"Steve..."_ you breathed, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him before you even knew what you were doing.

 

The moment you touched him, you felt his body give way. His arms captured you in an iron grip, holding you against him in such a way that it felt like.... _he was afraid to lose you too._

 

He pressed his face into the curve of your shoulder. "I'm _sorry,"_ he mumbled into your skin, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

 

You drew away from him and touched his face. He leaned into your touch. "I can't take this pain anymore. I cannot sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see it happen all over again."

 

"Steve..." you whispered, looking up into his eyes. "I know you are in pain, I can feel it in your mind, in your heart."

 

"I cannot stand it anymore, Y/N," he said, and you saw tears spring into his eyes. "I don't want to feel this pain anymore. Take it away. Take it away, **_please."_**

 

You were fighting to control your own emotions, and seeing Steve Rogers, the symbol of strength and righteousness, look so utterly broken and pained, it hurt you too.

 

So you did the only thing that you could think of in that moment: you pressed your lips to his.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of this work so far? Please comment and let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

You felt the heat of his lips, moulding into yours, pressing back just as insistently. His lips felt soft, a contrast to the brush of his beard against your cheeks.

 

Your fingers threaded into his hair and you parted your lips for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss, which he did. His tongue darted to meet yours, making you moan softly, while his hands stayed on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

 

His kiss was a desperate, hungry one. He poured all of his lust, need and anger into it, bruising your lips with the force of it.

 

Steve Rogers had always been a force to reckon with, but this was something else. There was an element of need and want in this. A strange longing.

 

You were confused by how quickly things were moving, but you didn't make any attempts to resist him when he moved into your room, locking the door behind him, making his intentions clear.

 

Between frenzied kisses, he undressed you, while you returned the favour. You were both hurt, in pain. You needed to _feel._ To feel what, you didn't know. But you just needed to feel something other than the guilt and grief that had come with all the deaths.

 

He pushed you onto your bed, where you landed flat on your back. He clambered into the space between your splayed legs and raised your hips with a force that drew your breath away. Before you could say even a word, his mouth was where you needed him the _most,_ his tongue sinking into you.

 

 _"Stevie..."_ you moaned, your hands fisting in his blonde locks.

 

He looked up at you from between your legs, concentration written plainly across his face. His tongue plunged roughly into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

 

His tongue flicked and moved against your hot, slick flesh, creating an obscene sound that punctuated your incoherent moans.

 

With every move, you could feel the tantalizing brush of his scruff against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The pleasure bloomed inside your core, spreading out all the way until it reached the very tips of your fingers and made your toes curl.

 

He made sure to hold your legs open while he ate you out, forcing you to take every bit of this delicious torture.

 

You shattered against him once.... _twice._

 

"Steve..." you moaned, giving his hair a sharp tug, pulling him up to your lips. You kissed him furiously, tasting yourself on his tongue. "I need you inside me..."

 

He nodded and lay you back down again, kneeling in the space between your legs.

 

"I won't be gentle," he warned you, grasping his rock-hard length and pumping it a few times. Then he rubbed himself against your folds, slicking his length with your juices. "I _can't_ be gentle..."

 

"Then don't," you breathed, a hand reaching out to touch his face. "I can take it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on this chapter?


	4. Chapter 4

His lips were at your neck just as he began to sink into you, inch by inch with a slowness that made your breath hitch.

 

You closed your eyes and relaxed, allowing him to breach your body, letting out a long sigh as you felt your walls hug his length snugly.

 

Once he was fully seated within you, he groaned against your skin, savouring the way your warm, velvety walls cradled him deep inside you.

 

"Steve..." you exhaled. _"Move..."_

 

He began slowly, drawing out almost entirely before plunging in, deeper than before. His hips were rocking into yours in a sedate, leisurely pace.

 

This was an exquisite feeling, the slow drag of his cock against your inner walls, slickened by your juices. He stroked all the right spots within you, the gentle rub of his length against your most sensitive spots making pleasure bloom through your core. It was a slow burn, and you could feel a flush rising in your cheeks.

 

"You're so beautiful..." came his murmur from above you and you opened your eyes, looking at him.

 

You could tell that he was holding himself back. He was using nowhere close to his full strength. This man between your legs, he had been able to withstand Thanos' gauntlet, he was _that_ powerful. 

 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, kissing him deeply. "Its okay..." you coaxed him. "Let go. I can take it."

 

He drew back and you could see it in his eyes, he was thinking. He was thinking if you could, in fact, take it.

 

A moment passed and then there was a sudden shift in his eyes. The decision had been made.

 

He drew back and sat on his knees, gripping your thighs and locking your legs around his hips.

 

He pulled out slowly, but when he surged in, it was with a force that drew your breath away.

_"Oh."_

He began a brutal, punishing rhythm, fucking you with deep, powerful thrusts that shook your body.

 

 _"Yes..."_ you sighed, throwing your head back, giving him a full view of your body writhing beneath his.

 

Your hands sought purchase, for something, _anything_ to hold on to while he fucked into you in an almost animalistic manner. You clutched his arms, your nails digging into his skin.

 

 _"Stevie..."_ you moaned, your back arching taut as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you, that delicious tightening in the pit of your belly growing with each thrust he gave.

 

Your body and the bed you were lying on, shook with the force of his thrusts, the headboard hitting against the wall over and over again. 

 

He was watching you as he fucked you, looming all masculine and dominant above you and it drove him crazy, seeing your reactions. You _knew_ he was watching you come undone beneath him. 

 

The way your back arched for him. The way your breasts bounced with each thrust. The way you threw your head back against the pillow, biting into your bottom lip, eyes closed and an expression of pure ecstasy on your face.

 

You were beautiful in this moment, he thought. Completely raw, vulnerable and fucked out. And _he_ had done this to you.

 

You were so utterly submissive beneath him, taking every last bit of his delicious assault on your senses.

 

He looked down, watching his engorged, veined length, glistening with your juices, disappear into your depths with each thrust.

 

_He **never** wanted to stop._

 

"Then don't..." you moaned, reading his thoughts. "I'm yours..."

 

The moment those last two words left your lips, he was on you, kissing you like you had never been kissed before.

 

There was a searing passion in his kiss, a passion that bordered on aggression, bruising your lips with his own, both his hands gripping your hair at the roots. 

 

You kissed him back, trying and failing to gain dominance. _He_ was the one running the show here.

 

He could feel how close you were, by your whimpering moans and by how tightly your inner walls gripped him, almost like they were begging him to never leave your depths.

 

He broke the kiss and wrapped his fingers around your delicate throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head swim.

 

 _One...two...three_ of his powerful thrusts, and you shattered, crying out. Your orgasm was so intense that you blacked out for a moment, only dimly aware of him spilling inside you with a groan of your name.

 

When you came to, he was lying next to you, his hand stroking your face. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, worried, as his thumb traced your swollen bottom lip.

 

You shook your head.

 

"I don't want to lose you," he breathed, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your neck.

 

"You won't," you murmured, sleepily.

 

The last thing you were aware of was a soft kiss pressed into your shoulder before you sank into a deep sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your feedback on this chapter! Xx


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